In Times Like These by Nathan Van Coops Read Free Book Online

room. Mr. Cameron leads us up a wooden staircase into an upstairs hall. "This door leads to the roof.” He raps his knuckles on the left hand door closest to him. He then shows us each of the three bedrooms along the right. "You can put yourselves up in here if you like.” He points out the various beds in the rooms. "These two rooms share a bathroom you can use. I’m sure you can find some towels and such if you need them. There are twin beds in the middle bedroom, but I guess one of you may have to camp on the couch downstairs, as I think we’re going to be one bed short."
    "That won't be a problem,” I say. "We’re happy to have anything really."
    "Yes, this is incredibly nice of you,” Francesca adds.
    "It really is my pleasure.” Mr. Cameron leads us down the hall to the glass door at the end. He points to the wooden door to the left before opening the glass door. "That's me."
    The veranda overlooks the backyard and the path we walked to the house. A number of wooden chairs surround a circular table with a pot of geraniums on it. We spread out along the railing, taking in the yard and its lush landscaping.
    “You have a really beautiful home,” Francesca says.
    “Thank you,” Mr. Cameron replies. “Abby and I always took a lot of pride in it.” He looks out over the yard and his eyes grow slowly moist. I try to think of a way to change the subject politely but I can’t think of anything about the house that wouldn’t relate to the late Mrs. Cameron. Mr. Cameron straightens up and exhales a deep breath, brushing his hand under his eye to wipe away the beginnings of a tear. “Are you all hungry? I was going to fix myself something in a bit.”
    “We actually ate recently,” I reply. “But we’ll definitely join you if you like.”
    “Wonderful,” Mr. Cameron says, still looking at the yard as if trying to avoid our eyes. “If you’ll make yourselves at home, I’m going to get started on that.” He smiles at us quickly, and then turns back into the hall. “Come down when you’re ready. Come along, Spartacus.”
    Spartacus follows his master with his tail wagging. Mr. Cameron holds the door open long enough for the dog to follow him through, and closes it behind him.
    The five of us make a semi- circle along the railing.
    “Your grandfather is really sweet , Robbie,” Francesca says.
    “I wish he wasn’t so sad,” Robbie responds. “I feel like I’m interrupting him somehow, like I’m invading his grief.”
    “He seems happy to see you,” Francesca says.
    “Yeah, he seems very interested in you,” Carson slouches against the railing. “It’s great that he’s up for letting us stay here. I think he took the whole time travel thing really well.”
    “Yeah, I was worried he’d never let us in after I finally got that out. How long do you think we’ll have to stay?” Robbie asks.
    “Yeah, what exactly is our plan here?” Blake inquires. “How is this helping our situation? We’re in 1985. We don’t have any money. No one is going to know who we are. We don’t have any I.D. or even know how we got here. We’re seriously screwed.”
    I realize that the four of them are looking to me for a response. I don’t feel especially qualified to be making any decisions. The walk here has mostly just been putting one foot in front of the other and t rying not to flip out.
    I step away from the railing and straighten up. “I think we should spend the night and see how things look in the morning. Maybe we can look for someone to help us. They have that Time Society group here supposedly, according to that newscast. Maybe they can help us somehow. Someone has to know something about this stuff. We’ll find them and maybe there’s a way we can sort this mess out.”
    “W e should have another look around the softball field too,” Carson suggests. “Maybe whatever happened, is going to happen again, and we can see how it works.”
    “Could be possible I guess,” I say.
    “I need to